I'm proud of my Scottish heritage, but ...

A few blogs ago I wrote about women leaders and listed a few “turkeys – either incompetent or dangerous.” I missed one out. How, I really don’t know because she’s the biggest turkey of the lot.

Scotland’s First Minster, Nicola Sturgeon.

So much for being principled

I was chuffed to bits last week when my best friend’s teenage daughter signed up to LinkedIn and invited me to connect, her first invitee outside her immediate family.

She’s a grand lass, as we say up north. I’ve known her all her life and she’s kind of a Godchild. Only kind of, not a proper one, because of me and my stupid principles.

2020 ended on a high

Firstly for Hubby, who exchanged his too-small gilet for one that fitted nicely, thus meaning I officially bought him a successful Xmas pressie (see previous blogpost).

And also for me, who had a letter published in The Times on New Years Eve. Always an ego-boost!

The muse this time was Brexit – no surprise there then – in response to the slew of Remoaner letters in The Times on the 30th. I know “Remonaner” is an insulting term and that we Brexiteers should be magnanimous in victory, but these letters were undeserving of anyone’s magnanimity, which is a polite way of saying they were pathetic.

Not sure about Hubby’s Xmas

In the greater scheme of things, and compared to many other people’s Xmases this year, I think Hubby’s was ok. Mind you, I haven’t asked him what he thinks about it yet; if I did, him being an accountant and all, he’d probably list the goods and the bads in two adjacent columns and dwell on how much longer the bad column was.

Pre-empting that, here are the bads that I can think of:

Women!

One of my friends said in exasperation the other day, “Wouldn’t the world be a better place if it were run exclusively by women!” 

Errr, no.

The not-so-mad Mad Hatter and friends

Recently I had cause to revisit Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Immediately I asked myself, why on earth don’t I revisit Lewis Carrol more often? What fun. So pertinent!

Here’s an excerpt from the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party that just about sums up today’s shenanigans, be they double-speak from politicians, not-so-subtle messages from the Sussexes, or weasel words in planning applications:

“Then you should say what you mean,” the March Hare went on.

Talking about food, or maybe not

Probably a bit crass to blog about food right after I’ve blogged about hungry children, but I’ve had one of those weeks when everything else has gone wrong so why not my sensitivity and PR nous?

But before the food, the week.

Still feeling a bit crabby for firing off a, er, crabby email when I shouldn’t have done (another story), I was faced early Thursday morning with receipt of an (unrelated) email that made me think that if I didn’t resign from this particular organisation tout de suite (I should really say sofort as I’m learning German at the mo, not French) I’d be party to being negligent and reckless. Let me give you a hint: if a safety organisation said Do This, would you Do That instead, because it was much much cheaper? Course you wouldn’t, but this lot did and I wasn’t consulted first, so off went the resignation e-mail before I’d had my second strong coffee.

Want to feed children?

Had another letter published in the Bucks Herald this week:

Want to feed children? Local is the best way

I support our local MPs, Greg Smith and Rob Butler, for voting against the proposed food vouchers during the school holidays. 

Earlier this year, provision of such vouchers was far from universally successful, being slow to deliver, expensive to administer, and target recipients were missed more often than an English soccer penalty. As a more viable alternative, in many communities local foodbanks instantaneously materialised, and established foodbanks stepped up a notch. The result was that more kids were fed more quickly locally than nationally.

Cousin Johnny – lest we forget after 80 years

We sat down this morning in Mum’s sitting room to watch on TV the Remembrance Day service at the Cenotaph in Whitehall.

Just as it started she asked, “Where are my uncles?”

I went into the dining room and opened the display cabinet where a picture of her four uncles, who had served in WWI, had pride of place. I removed the photo and took it over to her, where she held it on her lap throughout the programme, occasionally stroking it.

I'm not vain, honest

It was the constant fogging up of my glasses while wearing a mask, and not vanity, honest, that prompted me to visit my optician to switch to contact lenses.

I’d ruled them out over the years because I’d still need to wear reading glasses, and/or sun glasses, they’re planet-unfriendly – all that plastic(?) – and who wants to poke your fingers in your eyeballs when you’re hungover?

Boris is playing God

Maybe if one or more of my loved ones had succumbed to Covid-19 or were suffering with it in intensive care, I too would want a national lockdown. But they’re not, so I can think coolly, rationally and unemotionally, albeit after two strong coffees.

According to the Daily Mail (yeah, I know), the PM was told that if he didn’t lockdown us all then he would be forcing “doctors to choose between saving Covid sufferers and those with other illnesses.” 

So Boris has made the decision himself to favour Covid patients. 

Excuse me, but I would rather doctors take such decisions on a case-by-case basis, not politicians in a panicked pronouncement.

John Lewis really has lost its way

The go-to store of the British middle class can’t blame Covid or deserted High Streets or Russian hackers for their current woes. I came to that conclusion after 54 minutes trying to buy something very ordinary.

It all started earlier today, at 9:31am, while delivering the Stewkley Grapevine, our brilliant-if-I-say-so-myself village newsletter. Since the lockdown in spring, as opposed to the lockdown coming up, or the mandatory quarantine currently experienced by my sister in Barnsley (Barnsley. Yes. I know) because one of her work colleagues tested positive, I’ve taken a black plastic sack with me and litter-picked the verges and hedgerows. If I were Prime Minister (which is the title of a future blog), I would bring back capital punishment for litter louts. As fast as I clean everything up, more yobs, slags and low-lifes desecrate the countryside rather than take their detritus back to the cesspits they call home.

Glückliche Tage sind hier wieder!

Translation: Happy days are here again!

My German classes have re-started, albeit by Zoom and not in a sparse church room in Linslade. Nevertheless I’m celebrating, because my OCD-inclined brain did miss its weekly workout during lockdown and the summer hols.

Strictly speaking the blog title should be Die glücklichen Tage sind zurück, literally “The happy days are returned”, and that’s why I love German (as opposed to Germans, Germany or anything EU-related, being born near Workington and educated around Wakefield; EU-rebellion is in my genes).

Clouding the Consommé

This is my Blog. Instigated for me to let off steam. Therapeutic. I don’t really mind if no one else reads it. Sometimes I refer to my Blog on LinkedIn, and my email signature includes the Blog address, but only because I’m curious to see if anyone does read something they violently dislike, will they fire back? That would be fun. I might actually get trolled today …..

Educating Lifers - why should we?

About ten years ago, I was discussing with my Dad his time as Chief Education Officer at a top security prison. He had taken up the post just before the Open University was formed (late 1960s), their degree courses in prisons were introduced, and Dad was delighted to be an explorer in this uncharted territory.

He explained that the prison teaching staff were “… working without precedents. It was one great big experiment. The Home Office was quite generous with supplies such as books and civilian support staff. Somehow rooms were found. The tutors worked with a combination of instinct and experience. There was no link between the various prisons, so there was no uniformity. Many tutors came down from the local further education college and became involved with a far higher level of education than their day jobs; so when it came to their future career considerations, they had an advantage.”

“I remember our first degree-success,” he continued. He [the offender] was summoned to attend the daily get-together of the Governor and senior civilian and officer representatives. They sat on one side of the table and our new graduate sat solo on the other side, so spic-and-span that it hurt, speaking only when spoken to, accepting the various congratulations quietly with a poker face. He was quite successful in giving the opinion that he was far better than anyone else there.” 

Thrii Chiirs for thu Inglish Langwidge

According to the National Literacy Trust, 16.4% of adults in England, that’s over seven million people, have very poor literacy skills. And another study in 2010 concluded that English-speaking children may take twice as long to learn to read and write as speakers of more ‘regular’ languages, because English spellings are so variable. One such variability, cited in a BBC-online article, is "through" and "trough", written similarly but consonants and vowels pronounced differently.

This has prompted something called the English Spelling Society to join forces with the ominous-sounding American Literacy Council to shortlist six alternative spelling systems. They are now asking people to vote for their favourite, which will be promoted as an alternative to traditional English spelling. The objective is to “help people to master English spelling more quickly and without the teacher's red pen".

Wen ay red abowt this projekt, may furst thort woz that kids hoo lurnt tu reed and rayt this new sistum wud strugel to riid enithing ritten tradishunali.

BBC Personalities – an oxymoron

The thing that gets me about the salaries paid to BBC “personalities” is not the exorbitant amounts, nor the gender pay gap, but the fact that these giant egos are paid at all. Many of them should be fired on the spot because most of them are USELESS with a capital U S E L E S S.

Take Fiona Bruce for example. Please take her. Away. Anywhere. As long as I don’t have to see or hear her on the telly. Her diction is appalling. If she’s not rushing words, she’s slurring or swallowing them. She says “Tharsands” not “Thousands” and her intense, brow-furrowing, chin-thrusting delivery makes me wanna not shout but puke. She’s false. She’s unprofessional. She’s trying to refocus the issue away from the news or the question or the Ming vase on to her.

Forgiveness? Not gonna happen

Went to church with Mum today. Pity. Lovely Indian summer day. Could have spent it in the garden or walking across the fields. But I had promised her on Thursday that I’d take her and, like a good Christian, except I’m an atheist, I keep my promises. Unless it’s a really huge inconvenience, then tough.

The theme of today’s service was ‘forgiveness’, and how even if the perpetrator doesn’t apologise / repent / make amends or wotnot, a Christian should still forgive them unconditionally, or God won’t forgive the Christian their own transgressions when the time comes. 

The Oldest Profession

I think I’ve just read an article penned by the most selfish person ever. In fact, I’m going to stick my neck out and say she’s so selfish she has a narcissistic personality disorder, defined as being self-involved and having a prolonged, inflated sense of self.

Take a bow Lottie Gross, who’s supposed to be a travel writer and whose piece of garbage spluttered from the Daily Mail online while I slurped my morning coffee. The journey she was on today, however, was not of the geographical variety, but the emotional and moral. She doesn’t want children, never has never will. Contraception has side-effects for her so she really really really must be sterilised. It’s not fair that no one will help her. Oh woe is me. 

It’s Supply AND, not OR, Demand

Boris Johnson’s prime ‘primeministerial’ mission is to ‘level up’ the UK economy. By that, he means improving the lot of the ‘left-behind’ areas. Can’t argue with him there. A secondary, but not-too-far-behind, mission is to build more homes and make them more affordable. He’s not alone in wanting to see that happen.

Specifically, he wants to build more homes in areas where people want to live. Very considerate of him, but how does he know where people want to live? Has he undertaken a nationwide survey to ask them? Course not. He’s using an algorithm. Oh no – the dreaded “A” word!